


Glittering Eyes

by withthekeyisking



Series: Sladick Fics [17]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: "Handcuffs" Prompt, (duh), Anal Sex, Barebacking, Creepy Slade Wilson, Drugged Sex, Evil Slade Wilson, Extremely Dubious Consent, Guilt, Human Trafficking, Hurt Dick Grayson, Jason Todd Angst, M/M, Mind Control, Mutual Non-Con, Oral Sex, Praise Kink, Protective Jason Todd, SladeRobin Week, SladeRobin Week 2019, but there ARE things around Dick's wrists, kinda sorta, later on, ok so there are not actually any handcuffs in this fic, so I'm thinkin that counts?, well it's not really drugging, yea?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2020-10-30 01:26:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20806214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withthekeyisking/pseuds/withthekeyisking
Summary: It was Jason's case, and he didn't need any help, no matter what Dick seemed to think.Now, staring at the kneeling form of his older brother and the smug smirk on Slade Wilson's face, Jason can admit that maybe he's in over his head.





	Glittering Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> SladeRobin Week 2019 Day 4: Nice Slade | **Handcuffs**

"Get your hands off of him," Jason snarls, banging his fist against one of the metal bars keeping him trapped.

Slade Wilson just hums, not taking his eye off of the figure in front of him, one of his hands stroking through the kneeling man's black locks.

"Dick!" Jason calls sharply, trying again. He needs to put a stop to this. It's_ his fault_ and he needs to stop this. "Dick, snap out of it, man!"

His brother's brow furrows over his glazed eyes, and Dick begins to tilt his head towards Jason's voice. Jason silently urges him faster, wanting to catch his brother's gaze, snap him out of what's happening to him, but before the kneeling hero actually sees him, Slade strokes Dick's cheek, tilting his face back towards the mercenary and shushing him.

Goddammit, _no!_

"It's okay," Slade coos, his hand gentle as he pets Dick's hair and face and neck. Dick leans faintly into the contact, clouded eyes staring up at the elder man devotedly. Jason wants to break something. "There you go, pretty bird. Just stay with me."

"Slade, I swear to god, if you don't stop this I'll-"

"You'll _what?"_ the mercenary cuts him off lazily, looking over at him with an unimpressed expression. "You seem pretty stuck in there, kid. It's your own damn fault, too."

Jason knows that. He _knows._ If he hadn't been so focused on getting the job done, if he hadn't been so determined to do it on his own and ignore Dick's offer of help, if he hadn't blown up on the guy when he was just lending a _(actually needed)_ hand, then they wouldn't have fallen into such an obvious trap. Jason wouldn't be trapped, unable to do anything but pace like a caged tiger.

Dick wouldn't have those fucking bands around his wrists and his neck that make him far too docile, wouldn't be kneeling before a mercenary, wouldn't be letting _Slade fucking Wilson_ stroke him like a prized pet, unable to fight against it.

Slade runs a thumb across Dick's bottom lip and the hero's lips part immediately, drawing a chuckle out of Slade. He dips his thumb inside Dick's mouth, pressing down on his tongue, and then uses his other fingers to nudge Dick's mouth shut. "Suck," he instructs quietly, his free hand brushing soothingly through the hero's hair.

"You _son of a bitch-"_ Jason snarls.

But Dick simply follows the instruction like he can't hear Jason, still staring up at Slade like the other man is his whole world. He hollows his cheeks, sucking on Slade's thumb, and the mercenary's eye darkens with lust.

Jason really, really, _really_ doesn't like where this is headed.

Slade pulls his thumb out of Dick's mouth, smearing the spit off on Dick's cheek, who doesn't even flinch at it, glazed eyes blinking slowly.

And Slade begins dragging down the zipper of his pants.

"Dick, _please,"_ Jason begs, but he knows it's useless. Those fucking cuffs around his wrists and that band around his neck are doing something to him, something _awful,_ and Jason could scream himself hoarse and not even make a dent in Slade's control over the hero.

Jason had been tracking this tech; a bunch of human traffickers had gotten ahold of it and were using it for far less than noble purposes, much like what Slade is doing now. He brought his brother here, he entered with a halfcocked plan, and now Dick is...now Slade's going to...

"Pretty bird," Slade coos, distracting Dick from any urge the hero might've had to search out who'd said his name. Dick melts, leaning into the palm Slade puts against his cheek. His other hand releases himself from his pants and underwear.

"Open your mouth," Slade says, and Dick doesn't hesitate, his jaw dropping. He sways slightly as Slade removes his palm from his face in order to direct his cock into his waiting mouth, but steadies again when that hand tangles in his hair, holding him in place.

"Christ, Slade, _stop!"_ Jason yells. "Don't do this!"

Slade huffs an annoyed breath, beginning to shallowly thrust in Dick's mouth. Dick doesn't fight, doesn't flinch, just takes it limply. "Red, I'd like to remind you that I could make your brother do just about anything right now, and maybe it's not in _his_ best interests for you to continue irritating me."

Jason has a snarky comeback on the tip of his tongue, but he swallows it down, something cold settling in his gut. Because Slade's right; Jason is stuck, and Slade has a pliant Dick Grayson ready and willing to do anything. Nothing Jason says is going to stop this, and if all he accomplishes is pissing Slade off (normally would be considered a win) then Dick will be the one taking the punishment.

Slade thrusts harder into Dick's mouth, going far enough that the kneeling man chokes. His eyes look a little clearer for a moment, jerking against Slade's hold on his hair, and Jason feels a few seconds of terrifying _hope_ before Slade shushes Dick and murmurs, "Just take it, Grayson. Good boy."

And Dick _moans,_ melting right back against Slade, the clarity in his eyes gone as quickly as it came.

Slade chuckles lowly. "Of _course_ you have a praise kink," he says, shaking his head. He's gazing down at Dick almost _fondly,_ and it makes Jason want to vomit.

He continues thrusting into Dick, deep and hard with every slow thrust, and though Dick chokes and splutters, the hero doesn't try to pull away again, Slade keeping up a running commentary of how Dick is a _good boy, taking me like this, so perfect, made for this, so good for me, yeah just like that_

Jason's knees threaten to buckle as Dick keens, his big brother pressing closer to Slade, _desperate_ to please.

He never meant for this to happen. He never meant for Dick to be here, never meant to practically giftwrap his brother for this psychopath. He wishes he could go back a few hours, maybe just take a few deep breaths and _listen_ to Dick's suggestions. Prevent this nightmare from ever happening.

Eventually Slade pulls out, and Jason can't even feel relieved because he knows this isn't the end. He knows Slade won't stop here, not when he still has Dick so malleable, not when he's still so hard.

Dick doesn't move, jaw still hanging open. He blinks slowly, blue eyes distant. It makes Jason wonder what's going on inside Dick's mind, what _he's_ thinking about all of this. A couple of the victims this tech had been used on described it like a pleasant haze, but they didn't go into detail about what they were really aware of, and Jason never wanted to push.

Slade pushes Dick slightly, and the hero sprawls boneless onto the floor, brow furrowing for barely a second before his face smooths again. Slade goes down after him, crawling on top of him. It makes Dick look vulnerable in a way Jason had never viewed him. Makes Dick look _small_ in a way Nightwing never should.

Deathstroke begins stripping Dick of his suit, and Jason slams a fist against the bars again. Slade doesn't even bat an eye, and when the noise startles Dick, he easily calms the man back down by pressing a gentle kiss to his temple.

Soon enough, Dick is completely naked, a stark contrast to Slade, whothough opening his pants to let his cock outhas remained completely clothed. Dick allows his body to be maneuvered, completely unbothered as Slade folds his legs and pushes them up, bending the hero in half.

Slade makes an appreciative sound. "Gorgeous," he breathes, and Dick _mewls_ at the compliment, his head tipping back, baring his neck. Slade chuckles and leans forward, kissing and biting at the offered skin.

The mercenary pulls back long enough to remove one of his gloves, and then wraps his bare hand around Dick's cock. Only semi-erect before, Dick quickly becomes hard at the attention, his hips twitching upwards into Slade's grip.

"Stunning," Slade murmurs, and then lets go, his hand drifting lower to fondle Dick's balls, and then lower still, a finger circling the hero's asshole.

"Please don't do this," Jason whispers hoarsely.

Slade lifts his head and meets Jason's gaze, grinning predatorily. He holds eye contact as he pushes his dry finger forward into Dick's body. Dick makes a faint sound of protest, his face scrunching up, but the discomfort fades away when Slade uses his other hand to brush through Dick's hair in a soothing motion that immediately works. He keeps the motions up as he adds a second finger, stretching Dick a little impatiently.

"He's so _tight,_ Red," Slade goads, and Jason feels sick. "You'd think with all the jokes made about Nightwing he'd be a little _looser,_ but..."

He inserts a third finger, thrusting them harshly into Dick. Dick makes a pained noise but Slade pays it no attention, continuing to finger fuck him roughly. The pain of it has Dick grimacing, and Jason watches him blink rapidly, the haze in his eyes beginning to clear, and Slade isn't seeing it, too focused on what he's doing, so maybe

Slade kisses Dick deeply, devouring his mouth, and Dick moans into it, all signs of rebellion gone in a flash. The merc removes his fingers, and Dick sighs into the kiss, sounding relieved.

But Jason isn't relieved; he knows what's coming. He knows what's about to happen to his brother. And it's all his fault.

Slade pulls back slightly and flips Dick over onto his stomach, knees up but head on the ground, forcing Dick to arch his back and present his ass for Slade. The mercenary takes a moment to admire, squeezing the cheeks and then bending to bite at them, briefly dipping his tongue into Dick's asshole, making the hero jerk and moan.

But it's not long before Slade straightens and puts a bracing hand in the small of Dick's back, the other taking ahold of himself and guiding his erection towards Dick's ass.

"I'll kill you," Jason snarls, just before Slade starts to press in. "I swear to you, if you do this, I _will_ kill you."

"You'll try," Slade says dismissively. "But for now, _quiet._ I'm gonna enjoy this, boy."

And then he slams forward.

And Dick _screams._

His hands claw at the ground as Slade sets a brutal pace, keeping Dick in place with one hand on his hip and the other pressing down on his back. Dick writhes and cries out and tries to get away, but he has no leverage and is effectively pinned. His face is turned towards Jason _(and Jason wonders if Slade put him down like that purposefully)_, allowing the younger man to see the tears sliding down his cheeks, the pain and fear in his _(clear)_ eyes, the tremble of his lips.

And Jason doesn't realize that he's shouting until his throat starts to hurt, doesn't realize that he's crying until he tastes his tears, doesn't realize he's dropped to his knees until they start to throb.

And then, so very suddenly, Slade begins to slow. His thrusts are still deep, but far less brutal. Dick's cries of pain become fainter, whimpering with each thrust instead of actually screaming. Slade shifts, adjusting his angle, and then

Dick _moans,_ a shiver running through his entire body, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out what Slade's hitting now on each thrust. The fight goes right back out of Dick, his jaw slack and his eyes clouding over again, the tech around his wrists and his neck doing their job.

Jason doesn't know whether he wants to feel desperately relieved that Dick's no longer screaming in pain, or devastated that Dick once again is being forced to limply take what Slade's doing to him.

Slade chuckles and pats Dick's hip condescendingly, then straightens a little, the hand in the small of his back going to Dick's other hip to take ahold of him more firmly. He fucks deep and slow, hitting Dick's prostate on every drag, making the hero moan and mewl, tilting his hips upward to meet Slade's thrusts. The clarity from before has completely left him.

"That's it, kid," Slade purrs. "Let it make you feel good. Good boy."

Dick keens at the praise, going utterly boneless, letting Slade use him without complaint.

It goes on for far too long.

Eventually (eventually, eventually, _eventually),_ Slade's hips stutter, his pace picking up for a few seconds, and then he stills, completely buried in Dick's ass as he comes. He stays like that for a moment before pulling out with a grunt and getting to his feet. Dick doesn't move as cum and_Jesus_blood begin to drip down his thighs.

Slade pets a hand fondly over Dick's still raised ass, humming in satisfaction. Dick just blinks heavily, eyes still clouded over, and makes no attempt to move himself into a less exposing position.

As Slade tucks himself away, the mercenary turns to glance at Jason. There's something appraising in his eyes, something _calculating,_ that Jason doesn't like at all.

"You've had your fun," Jason snarls, and he pushes himself to his feet again, hands clenching into tight fists at his sides. "Now let him go."

The other man hums thoughtfully, sharp blue eye flicking up and down Jason's body, and them roams over Dick's still figure. Jason bristles automatically, wanting this _bastard_ to stop looking at his brother, but he doesn't have time to make any threats before Slade is asking, "You know what long-term use does, yes?"

Jason blinks at him. "What?"

Slade raises an eyebrow. "The cuffs," he clarifies, waving a hand lazily towards Dick. "You were tracking the traffickers, right? So you know what the long-term use can do to victims."

_Victims._ God, at least Wilson is self-aware.

And yes, Jason _does_ know what use of this tech does to people when it's prolonged. In short usage, there are no real side effects except for a few days of nausea and, of course, the horrors of the experiences themselves. But long-term use is a _very_ different story.

Those three bands, already fucking with the brain, start to leave permanent marks, making it harder and harder to pull the victim out of the mindset they're put it. It starts to push who they are back, keeping them as these absent-minded, eager-to-please people who are controlled ever-so-easily. A bonus for human traffickers. A devastating effect for anyone who spends a week or longer with those things on.

"Yes," Jason grits out. "What's your point?"

"It would be a shame for that to happen to Grayson, hm?" Slade prompts. He walks around Dick and crouches by his head, running a hand through his hair. Dick leans into the contact, his eyes going up to watch Slade with devotion. "I mean, this is rather pleasant, but the kid's got a certain _fire_ that I'd hate to see go out completely." He tilts his head, brushes a finger down and across Dick's mouth, which parts, his tongue darting out to lick the digit. Slade chuckles. "Not that this certainly doesn't have its appeal."

"Alright, what do you want?" Jason snaps, because he can read between the lines.

Slade hums, as if he's considering the question, as if the bastard doesn't already know _exactly_ what he wants in exchange for letting Dick go. He continues to pet Dick, the hero allowing it to happen with a pleased sigh, and Jason grits his teeth against the urge to _scream_ at Slade to get his fucking hands off of his brother.

"I'm going to open that cell of yours," Slade says calmly, almost offhand, "and then you're going to come over here and fuck him."

Jason can't _breathe._

"Excuse me?" he croaks out, because he must've heard that wrong, he _must've,_ because there's no way he's going toto _rape_ Dick. There's no way Slade is hinging Dick's freedom on...on _Jason_ doing _that._

Slade looks up at him, smirking with sick amusement. "You heard me, kid, don't pretend you didn't. You're going to fuck Grayson, you're going to cum inside him, and _then_ I will unlock the cuffs and let you take him home."

"No!" Jason yells, outraged, _panicked._ "No, no way, _fuck_ no! I'm not gonna rape him!"

Dick makes an unhappy noise and shifts, his face scrunching up at the yelling and harsh language. Slade leans down and presses a kiss to his temple, shushing him, and Dick settles again, still it that goddamned arched position.

"Alright," Slade agrees easily, _far_ too easily, and continues with, "then I suppose he and I will be on our way, won't we?"

Slade gets to his feet, reaching down to pull Dick up. The hero sways and as he attempts to settle weight on his legs he makes a keening sound of pain that breaks Jason's heart. Slade lifts Dick into his arms and strokes his back soothingly, the grimace of pain on Dick's face smoothing out, that glazed look coming back.

"No, dammit, no!" Jason shouts, slamming his fist on one of the metal bars. "You can't do this!"

"I can, and I am," Slade dismisses. "I will miss his spark, but it won't be too much of a hardship to come home to a pretty little toy waiting for me, will it?"

He turns to go.

And Jason _panics._

"Alright!" he calls out desperately, and hates himself for it. "Alright, just, _please,_ you can't take him, you can't do this to him. II'll do what you want."

Slade smiles, sharp and satisfied, and says, "Good boy."

The mercenary crouches again and sets Dick back down. One side of Dick's face is scratched up from having been forced against the concrete floor for so long, and his hips and back are littered with bruises, already darkening to disgusting blues and purples. His ass is bright red. The inside of his thighs are stained with blood and cum.

Jason prays to a god he doesn't believe in that Dick's deep enough in whatever mindset he's in that he doesn't remember any of this come morning.

Slade approaches the cell. "You try to run, boy, and you'll find yourself with a bullet in your leg and one less brother hanging around."

Jason withholds a scoff; of course he's not going to run. There's no way he'd leave Dick behind, not with this raping psychopath. He has a brief idea of grabbing Dick and getting out of there, but on a _good_ day Jason would probably get his ass handed to him by Slade, let _alone_ when he has a spaced-out brother to protect as well.

He has one option to get them out of here, and it's just about the worst thing in the world.

"Do you understand?" Slade asks firmly when Jason doesn't reply, and Jason can't get the words out, so he simply nods weakly. Slade accepts the answer and punches in a keycode, the cell door clanging before sliding open.

Slade gestures him out grandly, motioning towards Dick's slumped form. Jason's legs feel weak.

He can't say he's never thought about fucking Dick. He was going through puberty when they met, after all, and the guy was_is_gorgeous. On any other occasion, if Dick had offered to let him do this (keyword: _offered)_ then yeah, he probably would say a firm _hell yes._ But this is so very far from a scenario like that. This is so very far from any wetdream he had of making Dick feel good, of fucking him for _hours,_ of making him scream his name.

No, this situation is so far from that that it's not even funny.

Jason walks over to Dick as if in a haze and kneels beside him, reaching out a hand to cup his cheek gently. Dick leans into the contact, blinking up at him so _trustingly._ Jason wonders if Dick recognizes him, or if he's just another man here to touch him and take what isn't freely given. He wonders which would be worse.

"Hi, Dickie," Jason murmurs, stroking his thumb over the hero's cheek. "How ya feeling?"

Dick doesn't answer, just stares adoringly up at him, and it's so very _wrong,_ makes him want to scream and break things and put a bullet right through Slade's other eye.

"Right," Jason continues as if Dick had spoken. "I'm gonna try to not make this hurt, okay? _Fuck,_ I don't want this to hurt you."

"Any day now, Red," Slade drawls, and Jason sends a sneer at him.

"Why the fuck do you even _want_ this, anyway? Don't you have some weird, psychopathic obsession with him? Why do you want someone else...being with him?"

Slade chuckles at the delicate wording and shrugs a shoulder, folding his arms over his chest. "Amusement, mostly. Now get on with it, kid; my patience doesn't last forever."

Dick's curled up on his side currently, and Jason gently nudges him onto his back. Swallowing back his nausea, he shuffles between Dick's legs, pushing them open with his thighs. He rubs his thumb over the finger-shaped bruises on Dick's hip. Then, after a hesitant moment, he reaches lower and inserts his finger into Dick's ass. It's hot and wet and on any other occasion Jason would probably find it incredibly sexy, but right now all he can think about is how much of that wetness is a rapist's cum, and how much of it is blood from tearing.

This is the absolute last thing Jason's ever wanted to do. He's always gone after rapists and assaulters so much harder than anyone else, knowing that the only good end for them is a painful one. Yes here he is, sitting between the legs of someone unwilling, about to have sex with them.

It doesn't matter to him at the moment if this is the best option in the long run. Right now all he can think about is how he's about to force himself on someone who doesn't have the ability to consent.

His hands shake as he undoes his belt and pulls down his fly. He's completely soft when he pulls himself out, a fact that draws a derisive snort from Slade, and frankly Jason has no idea how he's supposed to do this considering he isn't aroused in the slightest.

"Trouble getting it up?" Slade jeers.

"No I just don't find rape sexy," Jason snaps right back. He takes a few deep breaths. _It's fine. You're fine. Just think of other things. Close your eyes and picture something else._

He hears footsteps, and his head jerks up to warily watch Slade approach. The mercenary crouches down by Dick's head, balancing on the balls of his feet, and cocks his head.

"I could give you a hand, if you like."

Jason's lips curl back, about to tell Slade that if he puts a hand on him he won't be getting it back, but Slade's already leaning down to whisper something in Dick's ear. Jason can't hear it, but whatever he says makes Dick _moan,_ his head tilting back in pleasure, his back arching.

And Jason's cock twitches.

Slade smirks at him and says something else to Dick, to which the hero _mewls,_ a needy and desperate sound. And against Jason's will his cock starts to fill up, raising to attention as a naked Dick Grayson moans and writhes and tilts his hips up towards Jason as if all he could possibly want in the world is for Jason to fuck him.

Jason knows it's not real, that it's _forced_. He _knows._ But apparently his dick isn't getting the memo, quickly standing to attention.

"There," Slade purrs, leaning back. "All set to go."

Jason snarls at him, hating this man more than he thought it was possible to hate someone (and Jason's old friends with rage and hate). But he has to do this all the same. To save Dick, he has to do this. He _has_ to.

He wonders if he tells himself that enough, if it'll make him feel better about the whole thing.

Very unlikely.

He takes ahold of Dick's hips and raises his bottom slightly, shuffling forward a little more until he can pull Dick partially onto his lap. He winces as that action drags Dick along the cement floorsure to leave some more scratchesbut Dick doesn't flinch, glazed eyes gazing up at Jason like he's the only thing that matters.

_Fuck._

"Okay, Dickie," Jason murmurs, rubbing soothingly along the hero's side, "in the home stretch. We're almost out of here."

He knows none of that matters to Dick right now, none of it makes sense to his muddled brain, but Jason has to say it all the same.

He takes a few deep breaths, working hard to keep himself together, and then pushes forward, pulling Dick towards him in the same motion.

Jason's fucked a good amount in his life, has a good amount of experience, but there's something so fucking different about being inside _Dick Grayson_ that has Jason gasping for air, fighting for control over himself. He wants to fuck forward hard and fast, make Dick moan and scream his name. He wants to kiss him until they're both gasping for air, unable to breathe.

He wants to. And maybe if this was in any way consensual, he would.

But right now, Dick doesn't deserve another person using him for their own pleasure, taking what they want from him before pulling out and discarding him. No, Dick doesn't deserve to be hurt any more than he already is.

So Jason moves slowly, rocking his hips forward. His breathing stutters because this iswell, it feels _good._ And it's terrifyingly deceptive, with Dick rolling his hips up to meet every thrust, jaw hanging open, his expression perfectly blissed out. He looks like he's having the time of his life, like this is the best fuck he's ever had, and that's messing with Jason's perception, messing with what he _knows_ isn't consensual.

This is rape, pure and simple. But his body doesn't seem to be agreeing with that, heat pooling in his gut as he listens to Dick whimper and moan as he hits that spot inside him, as he feels him clench around him, and his pleasure-glazed eyes look up at him like he's the second coming.

Yeah, his body's having a hard time acknowledging that this is _very bad._ And when he starts to feel his orgasm approaching he feels nothing short of relief that this nightmare is going to end soon.

His thrusts speed up a little, chasing the feeling, and Dick takes it without complaint, body rocking back and forth on the cement floor. His back will be covered in scratches, Jason knows. He doesn't think he'll be able to see them without vomiting.

He comes with a groan, burying himself in Dick's ass, and rides his orgasm out. When it's done he pulls out, panting heavily, and takes a moment to sit there beside Dick with his eyes closed, just trying to breathe.

Then he tucks himself back away and redoes his belt, looking Dick over to make sure he's alright. Dick, of course, seems completely fine, but that in no way means he actually is. What will he remember after this? Would it be better or worse to have forgotten it all?

"Good show, kid," Slade rumbles, and Jason's head jerks up, his eyes blazing. The mercenary just smirks at him.

"Now keep your word," Jason says. He tries to make it a demand, but he sounds weak even to his own ears.

For half a secondfor half a _horrifying second_it seems like Slade isn't going to, that's he's going to sentence Dick to being stuck is these hellish cuffs (at least until Bruce figures out a way to hack them, which could take who-knows-how-long).

But then he steps back up, once more crouching beside Dick. He strokes a hand down the hero's face as he reaches towards the band around his neck. Dick looks up at him devotedly, leaning into the touch. Slade presses his thumb to part of the collar and the device beeps and then clicks, something releasing and allowing Slade to pull it off without any trouble.

A shudder runs through Dick's body, his eyes drifting shut.

Slade reaches out for Dick's right wrist next, picking it up and repeating the pattern. The cuff beeps and clicks, and Slade pulls it off, pressing a kiss to Dick's pulse point. Jason bares his teeth.

Dick makes a strangled sound, his closed eyes squeezing, and shifts restlessly.

Slade puts Dick's arm down and then grabs his left wrist, releasing the third band and pulling it away, officially freeing Dick of the monstrous tech.

Dick makes a pained sound deep in his throat, his face scrunching up, and Jason feels his heartrate pick up, panicked about if he'd made a miscalculation, if just removing them like this is causing more pain than good. He doesn't know what he'd do if that was true.

"Relax," Slade drawls, noticing Jason's growing anxiety. "It'll take him a bit to come back down, but he'll be fine."

And Jason knows he's not in any shape to pick a fight, not physically or emotionally, but he throws a punch anyway, feeling enraged and devastated. Slade easily pulls out of the way of the sloppy hit, getting to his feet, and Jason really doesn't have the energy to follow him up.

Slade snorts and shakes his head. "Be grateful I'm letting you both go, kid," he says. "The two of you make quite the pretty picturewouldn't be a hardship for me to put you both in those cuffs and enjoy the show whenever I fucking feel like it."

Jason snarls at the threat, but he's kept from replying to the mercenary when Dick makes a particularly pitiful noise, rolling onto his side and curling in on himself, body lined with pain and discomfort. Jason jerks towards him, hesitating to touch for only a moment before wrapping his arms around the hero.

Faintly, he hears Slade walking away _(with_ the tech, he notes), but Dick starts shaking at the same time, taking all of his attention. Jason hastily pulls off his jacket and wraps it around Dick, pulling the elder man onto his lap to try to get him away from the cold cement.

They remain there for a while longer, Dick shivering and then shuddering in his arms, face still scrunched up in pain. Jason strokes his hand gently up and down the hero's back, murmuring a lullaby in Spanish his mother sang to him when he was little, when she was actually sober. He wishes he knew one of the Romani songs Dick loves so much, the ones he always sings to them when they're injured, but the words won't come, leaving Jason trying his best to provide comfort to someone he just violated.

Jason doesn't know where they're going to go from here, but he knows there's certainly a long (and unpleasant) road ahead.

One good thing that will come out of it, at least, will be removing Slade Wilson's head from his body.

Yeah, Jason thinks with a grim smile, hugging Dick more tightly against himself; yeah, Deathstroke is going to die, and he's going to be the one to put him in the ground.


End file.
